Whispering
by invisiblegirl1315
Summary: His girlfriend had never been particularly religious, and he had never been to this church ever before in his life. He was looking out the window in curiosity as he quietly said, "Do you want to explain why we're here?"


"Natalie," Henry called, desperately, chasing after her. He looked worriedly over his shoulder to make sure there was no sort of authority figure waiting around to catch them. "Nat, please hold on. Natalie."

This was so strange—to think _Henry _was actually the one worrying about the two of them ditching school. Or to be honest, maybe he was more worried about the fact that Natalie was looking reckless.

The glint was there in her brown eyes, and he hadn't seen it in almost a year. It terrified him. It made him think back to all the nights at the clubs, all the drinking, the overdosing. The bubble of anger that she tried so hard to suppress every day was coming up. She was at her boiling point, he could tell.

"Natalie, please. Please, please. Tell me where you're going. Please don't do anything stupid—"

"Shut the fuck up, Henry," Natalie growled, jerking open the door to her car forcefully. She threw her backpack in the backseat; it landed with a resounding _thud_ against the floor, making Henry start. "Get in or go back to class, but I'm not staying."

Impatience. Agitation. Anger. That was all Henry saw there, written on her face, and he had no clue what to do. With a small sigh of resignation, he pulled open the door and plopped himself into the passenger seat.

Wordlessly, Natalie started up the car, staring ahead at the road. Her knuckles were white, clenched around the steering wheel; until she slammed the radio off harshly, Henry thought they might have been permanently glued there.

"Where are we going?" he asked quietly, throwing her a pleading glance. She ignored him, still staring icily ahead, avoiding traffic. "Do you want to get a milkshake? Some food? You didn't eat lunch, you were studying and you forgot…Nata…you didn't…take anything? Did you?"

Finally, she spoke, her voice an explosion through the cold winter air. She hadn't turned on the heat in the car. "No, Henry, I didn't fucking take anything! I stopped that last year and you know that! I can't believe you would even—"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" Henry apologized quickly, immediately regretting having even suggested it. While it was a relief to know Natalie was clean, he would be lying if he said it wasn't something that often worried him. "Just tell me where we're going?"

Silence.

This continued for another seven and a half minutes—Henry kept the time, his eyes staring at the clock, trying to distract himself from Natalie's careless driving. She was usually extremely careful when behind the wheel; he called her "Grandma Natalie," whenever she drove, because she refused to go any faster than 10 mph below the marked speed limit.

But now, she was speeding. Speeding down back roads, making Henry fear a collision.

Henry decided at the eight minute mark it would be good to try again.

"Listen, I'm sorry. I get why that would've been difficult to sit through."

Silence.

"I don't think those girls meant for you to hear."

Silence.

"People just don't know how to deal with this stuff, babe. They don't get what your mom went through."

"No," she agreed through gritted teeth, "they don't."

Henry inwardly sighed with relief at the sound of her voice, no matter how pissed off it sounded.

Mrs. Martinez, their health teacher, had walked into class, prepared for a lecture on mental illnesses. Before beginning, she had inquired as to whether or not any student in class had a relationship with someone with a mental illness.

All eyes in the room had immediately shifted to the back of Natalie's head—it was no secret Mrs. Goodman was a bit abnormal.

Henry tensed, waiting.

Natalie, though, bravely ignored it. She looked at Mrs. Martinez innocently, pretending she couldn't feel the eyes of everyone in the room boring into the back of her head. Henry noticed, however, how she was biting her nails.

About twenty minutes into the lecture, when her nails where still at her mouth and her eyes looked cold an glassy, Henry discreetly tried to pull her arm down, hoping to catch her gaze. She swatted him away nonchalantly.

"…I don't know, Tina, maybe they sent her away to get help, it's not like she talks about it…"

Natalie whipped around in her seat, glaring at the source of the hushed whispers. Tina Barker and Evelyn Sardinelli looked painfully awkward, and Henry buried his face in his hands.

The bell rang then, saving them all. Natalie hurriedly and wordlessly gathered her things and briskly made her way into the hallway, and Henry followed suit.

Except she didn't make her way up the left staircase to the Chemistry lab. She walked straight out into the parking lot with such force in her stride, Henry thought the pavement would crack.

And here they were.

"Nata, we're thirteen miles out of town. You have to tell me where—"

With absolutely no warning, without even turning on her blinker, she veered into the parking lot of a small brick church, with an adjoining cemetery out back.

The car was suddenly off, Natalie yanking the keys out of the ignition.

Henry had to admit he was confused. His girlfriend had never been particularly religious, and he had never been to this church ever before in his life.

He was looking out the window in curiosity as he quietly said, "Do you want to explain why we're here?"

But she was already out of the car, slamming the door behind her. Stumbling out of the vehicle, Henry trailed behind warily. Once he had finally caught up to her, Natalie was already stopped in front of a tiny gray headstone, arms crossed in front of her.

"Oh," Henry breathed, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. "Do you want me to leave…?"

He was sure she was going to say yes, because Natalie had always been one to deal with her problems in private, but as he looked down at her, he was met with the most heartbreaking sight he had ever seen.

For the first time in their entire relationship—for the first time since Henry had even met her—Natalie Goodman looked scared. Downright petrified. Of a tombstone.

"Nat," Henry whispered as gently as humanly possible, afraid that if he rose his voice at all, a volcano of tears would erupt within her. He hated to see her cry. "Natalie."

"He ruined everything," she said calmly, though the frightened look still plagued her face. "He absolutely ruined everything, Henry."

"Is this the first time you're doing this?" Henry questioned hesitantly, feeling as if he was barging in on something private.

Natalie shrugged. "What does it matter?"

He took that as a yes. "Babe, you didn't deserve what you went through as a kid—"

"I wonder what music he would've liked," she interrupted, suddenly. "I wonder if he would've been athletic."

Henry simply stared at her, openmouthed. This was the first time in almost a year Natalie had even recognized the fact Gabriel had even _existed_.

"Mom told me once that he had my dad's eyes and nose," Natalie continued, digging her heel into the cold, hard dirt. "I bet he would've been handsome. Probably better looking than me."

"I don't know," Henry awkwardly chimed in, sliding his arm around her shoulders, "I think you're quite the looker."

She ignored this. "I wonder if he would've taken care of me."

This last sentence struck Henry right in his gut, and his stomach turned over on top of itself. He kissed her hair. Natalie had always been the feminist—claiming she needed no help from any boy, or _anybody_, really. Independence had always been her strong suit, and she prided herself on it. But Henry now saw how many years she had been screaming for help from someone who wasn't even alive to give it to her.

"He probably could've beaten you up. You know, when we fight. He could've hated you for me."

Henry chuckled, squeezing her into his side. "Just for you, Nat, I would've made sure he hated me a whole lot. If it would've made you happy. I'm sure he could've thrown a good punch."

Natalie tapped the headstone with the tip of her sneaker lightly. A breeze blew her hair into her face as she idly spoke to the stone, "I hate you a little bit. I know I should love you, but I don't."

"He hates you, too," Henry said into her hair comfortingly, and Natalie actually chuckled.

She bent down, wiping some dirt away from the place where Gabriel's name was engraved. "Happy birthday, asshole."


End file.
